Strange Days Ch. 78-82

I answered her with a hard kiss, then I shoved my hand between her legs and rubbed her twat through her jeans. Sarah squealed into my mouth and tried to get away from me, but I wrapped a leg around her and held her down, rubbing and stroking her cleft until I felt her damp heat through her jeans and she was pumping her hips in time with my hand.

"Oh God," she groaned into my ear. "Gonna come."

"No coming," I told her, and immediately stopped rubbing her.

Sarah gave me a wide-eyed look. "Oh, you bitch!"

I laughed and rolled, spilling both of us out of the hammock. I took off for the house and Sarah ran after me, cursing me for leaving her hanging. She chased me into the mudroom on the side of the house and slammed the door shut behind her.

The washer and drying were both running, and the interior door was closed.

Perfect.

When she grabbed for me, I snatched up her wrist and spun her around, pulling her arm up her back and shoving her against the wall.

Sarah grunted and I pushed my front against her back, then reached around with my other hand, ripped open the button fly of her jeans and shoved my hand down her pants. My fingers slid between her legs and into her soaking wet folds.

"Oh fuck!" she hissed, and when I pushed two fingers into her slick heat, she moaned out loud. "Amy!"

"I told you," I purred beside her ear, mashing my breasts against her back and curling my fingers inside her. I couldn't reach that spot on the roof of her pussy like this, but she writhed against the wall nonetheless. "I'm going to torture you all day."

Her arousal trickled down my fingers. She was so fucking hot and wet.

"This is my pussy, Sarah," I growled, fucking her with my fingers. "You belong to me, and I'll have you when I want, and how I want."

Sarah pressed her forehead against the wall and shoved her cunt down onto my probing digits. "Oh God, baby."

"Do you want to come?" I asked, pushing my fingers further inside her.

"Yes," she hissed, arching her back.

I released her arm and she reached it up behind me to grab the back of my head. "Say please."

"Please," she whimpered.

I mauled her breasts with my other hand. Her nipples were so fucking hard.

"Amy, please," she cried softly.

"Mistress," I breathed into her ear.

"W-what?"

I curled my fingers inside her and she cried out. She was so very close. "Say 'please, Mistress'."

I pushed my fingers as deep into her tight cunt as I could, then said firmly. "Come."

"Uhhn!"

She went off like a rocket, her entire body seizing, sopping wet pussy clenching down on my fingers. I fingered her through her climax and bit down hard on her neck, then kissed the hurt away. When she finally came down, I gently pulled my fingers out of her and turned her around. Sarah leaned her shoulders and head back against the wall, staring at me with wide eyes glazed from her orgasm.

I pushed my fingers into my mouth and sucked them clean. Sarah shook her head at me, like she was seeing me for the first time.

"Yummy," I said chipperly.

Then I grabbed her hand and dragged her inside.

"I can't believe you did that," she whispered fiercely, trying to fix her hair with one hand as we walked into the kitchen.

"Ready for lunch?" Penny asked while Mom and Aunt Claire helped her set the table.

Both of us nodded. I saw George coming from the living room and caught his eye, jerking my gaze to the side, towards his study. He nodded once and went that way.

"Be right back," I told Sarah.

She gave me a quizzical look and nodded. I found George waiting for me in his office, an expectant look on his face, and a few minutes later, he hugged me, kissed the side of my head, and we joined everyone in the kitchen.

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. I teased Sarah every chance I got, quick but firm gropes of her body when nobody was looking. I even caught her coming out of the bathroom before dinner, shoving her back in, bending her over the sink counter and fingering her to another good come while our mothers were on the other side of the bathroom wall in her mom's room. After that, Sarah was rather docile, almost obedient. I have to admit, I liked it a lot. I was going to have to explore this newly discovered side of my girlfriend.

Penny, George and Sarah exchanged gifts while all of us sipped our hot apple ciders. I caught George staring at Sarah and I fondly several times, and every time, he'd smile and look away. Penny wanted to try on the new sweater and skirt that Sarah had given her, so they went to her mom's room. George refreshed my cup of cider and I took it with me out to the front porch to look at the houses lit up beautifully with multi-colored lights. I made my rounds of calls to all of my friends, including Darren, Rose and Ginger, wishing them a merry Christmas.

Despite having a rough start, it was a great day, one of the best Christmas's I'd ever had. I guess it only made sense that something had to go wrong.

I was lounging in a thick cushioned wicker chair on the front porch when the feeling came over me. I shivered from head to toe, feeling eyes on me, someone watching. It was worse than before, even worse than what I'd felt in the car on the way home from Phillip's apartment. For an instant, I considered going back inside, but then a surge of adrenaline hit me.

I wanted them to show themselves so that I could finally confront them. What I'd do, I had no idea, but I was tired of this game, tired of feeling so small in a world that Helena hinted was much larger than I'd ever known. Sarah had given me a statue of Freyja for my eighteenth birthday, a statue that had turned out to be imbued with magic. Real, honest to God magic. It wasn't just magic that gave me a penis. It was magic that granted my wish, that fulfilled a longing I'd never known that I'd had. I'd wanted Sarah far more than I'd realized, and I'd wanted her completely. Emotionally, I'd always known how strongly I felt for Sarah, at least for the most part, but physically, I hadn't realized that I'd wanted her the same way I'd wanted Trevor until the statue came along.

Our lives had changed dramatically. I was deeply in love with my best friend. I wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. I wanted to go to bed with her every night, wake up to her every morning, get pissy when she made the coffee too weak, celebrate with her when she accomplished something amazing at her 'real job'. I wanted a house of our own. I wanted to fight and bicker over pointless little things, wanted to love her and cherish her. I even wanted children with her, and how we made that happen didn't make a lick of difference to me.

But life wasn't that simple. Freyja's gift had exposed me to another world out there. Helena was far more than a simple shopkeeper. I didn't know what, exactly, but I was beginning to think she was some kind of oracle. I'd read all I could find on Norse mythology, studied the goddess Freyja in and out, up and down. I'd stumbled across stories of the Black Dog, from England to Scotland and Wales, and I was fairly certain the man in black was like Helena, something more than he seemed. Who else was more than they seemed? How many people had I come across during my life were part of that other world?

Another tremor ripped through me. My fear became a cold fist around my pounding heart. I could barely catch my breath and my insides were quaking with need, soaking my panties. I had never been so aroused, felt so desired and so very feminine in such a primal way, and I fucking hated it.

Someone or something had taken notice of me. Whoever or whatever was watching me, they wanted me. I could feel it, far more acutely than ever before. I felt their craving for my flesh, their desire to possess me in every way. It was terrifying, entirely unnatural to be so afraid and so aroused at the same time, like my body wasn't my own, and I was sick of it.

I shot up out of the chair and stormed down the steps into the front yard. Just as I was about to scream out into the night for my stalker to show themselves, I saw it. A black or dark blue car, very exotic and very much out of place in that middle-class neighborhood, parked a few houses down. The moment my gaze locked onto it, I just knew that I was being watched from that car.

Anger flared inside me, hot and all consuming. I balled my fists and approached the car with purposeful strides. Every step closer tightened things low inside me, made me hotter, wetter, until my legs shook and the sensation of my thighs rubbing together was almost too much to bear.

I stepped into the street and my skin grew hot, so much so that I swore my clothing would catch fire. Whoever or whatever was in that car was happy that I was coming to them. I knew it.

In the middle of the street, need exploded inside me so powerfully that it took my breath away and ripped a plaintive moan out of my chest. My right knee buckled but I managed to fall into a half-crouch, my hand on the street the only thing keeping me from falling face-first onto the pavement.

I tried to stand. My insides quaked and clenched so hard that I moaned loudly, heard my wordless plea echoing off the houses, and I fell onto my side. The very fiber of my being felt on the verge of climax, and it curled my body up on the rough pavement. My nipples were chafing under my bra. My panties were tormenting me, rubbing against my soaked cleft deliciously but providing no relief. The urge to rip my clothes off came over me.

I tried to move my arms. If I could touch myself, just a little, just one quick brush of my finger, I could find relief. But I couldn't move. Another spasm ripped through me and I balled myself up even tighter, fingernails cutting into my palms.

Then I heard the car door open.

Oh no.

"No," I whimpered, trying to move, to get up, to roll away, anything.

I forced my eyes open. From the corner of my vision, I saw a brown shoe touch the road, then another. They were getting out of the car, just a few feet away, and coming towards me.

Get up! Scream!

I couldn't move. I couldn't even open my mouth, my jaw was clenched so tightly. I couldn't hear over the sound of my blood roaring in my ears.

They kept coming, moving behind me.

I was so overwhelmed with want that it hurt, and I needed so desperately to come, to be filled, to be brought screaming so that the agony would just go away.

"Easy," they whispered.

It was a man, and the voice was masked under the whisper, but it sounded familiar.

Fingers touched my shoulder through my sweater, and just like that, the aching need was gone. My body uncoiled somewhat, but I still couldn't move. I was just so very tired and my body was liquid, just like how I felt right after an amazing climax.

He spoke under his breath. "There. That's better."

The mere sound of his voice was doing things to me, leaving me languid, pliable, waiting for him, waiting for anything he wanted. It wasn't that I wanted to serve him, but I felt his maddening need through the tips of his fingers on my shoulder, heard his incredible desire for me in the slight shudder of his whispering voice.

I was the only one that could help him, the only one that could save him. His aching need was mine, and it was tearing me apart. I wanted to sate his hunger, to drive away the horrific need that threatened his sanity. I wanted him with me, surrounding me, inside me, part of me.

I sensed him moving, maybe crouching, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body behind me. His fingertips left my shoulder, then touched my cheek.

I came explosively, without any warning at all, soaking my underwear and jeans, climaxing so powerfully that I couldn't even scream.

I don't know how long it lasted, but his soft voice brought me back to the here and now.

"He was right," he whispered reverently. "You're of our blood, touched by us."

Distantly, I heard someone calling my name.

"Fuck," he hissed, then I felt his warmth breath against my ear. "We'll see you soon, Amy."

I came again, nowhere near as agonizingly strong as before, but still more than enough to take my breath away.

"Hey!" Sarah shouted frantically. "Get away from her!"

The car door slammed shut, the engine roared and the tires screamed on the pavement. Then Sarah was there, picking me up and holding me in her lap in the middle of the street, her sweet voice so soft but so full of fright.

"Amy, are you okay? Amy, please. Talk to me."

I tried to tell her I was okay, but I still couldn't find my voice. My hand was on her thigh and I managed to give it a squeeze.

"Was it Todd?" she asked.

Fuck. There went my hope that Sarah had seen who it was.

I shook my head.

She kissed my hair and held me for a while. Gradually, my wits returned and my body cooled, becoming mine again.

I heard a car coming from a ways off.

"Honey, we need to move," she told me.

I nodded and she helped me up to my feet and off the road. She walked me up her driveway, and with every step I took, I felt better.

My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water for a moment. "How did you...?"

"You still know where the park is?" she asked.

Of course, I knew. I used to...

"You kids used to play there, remember?"

Again, speechless.

"Yes," I replied breathlessly.

"See you soon, sweetie."

The line went dead. Sarah wasn't happy about me not spilling my guts right away, and particularly unhappy that I lied to our families about where we were going - I told them we were hopping over to Paula's to say hi to her folks. Mom let me take her SUV. I told Sarah about what had been happening to me, that I was being watched, and what Helena had told me.

Ten minutes later, we were walking into Olson Park. I was holding Sarah's hand.

"I'm really sorry about this," I said quietly.

"Sorry about what, exactly?" Her tone was somewhat flat, and clipped. She was definitely upset, having figured out that I'd been keeping something from her.

"About not telling you what was going on in the first place." She didn't say anything, so I added, "It's just, well, after everything that happened with Paula and Todd, I didn't want to heap anything else onto your shoulders."

Sarah stopped and yanked on my arm, pulling me to her and grabbing my shoulders. She gave me a stern look. "You mean everything to me. Nothing is trivial, and nothing is too heavy for me. Do you understand?"

I nodded quickly, feeling somewhat ashamed.

"Good." Sarah kissed me, then took my hand again.

We found Helena sitting on a bench. She looked the same as she always had, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders and down her back. She wore a nearly pure-white toga and strappy sandals. She must have been freezing. Sarah and I were wearing our sweaters and it was still pretty nippy out. But as we got closer, Helena wasn't shivering at all. She stood up from the bench at our approach, fingers, wrists, arms and ankles glittering with silver.

Just seeing her there made me feel worlds better.

"Hi, sweetie." She smiled warmly and took my hands, giving me a kiss on my cheek. I felt warmer, welcome, and safe, and my skin tingled where her lips had been. Helena took Sarah's hands and kissed her cheek too. "Good to see you again, Sarah."

Sarah smiled.

Helena regarded me, much as my mother would when she expected me to lie. "How are you holding up, Amy?"

I narrowed my gaze suspiciously. "You know what happened, don't you?"

She shook her head. "No, but I sensed your urgency just before you called."

"Do you live out here?" Sarah asked.

Helena smiled. "I do. My husband tends to get cranky when I stay in the loft over my store for an extended period."

I glanced at the multitude of silver rings adorning her fingers. "I guess one of those is a wedding band."

Helena chuckled and raised her hand, pinching one of the rings between two fingers of her other hand. It was a Celtic knot design, multiple rings intertwining with each other.

"Would you like to sit down?" she asked, gesturing at the bench.

I shook my head. "Not really."

"Very well." She took a seat and looked up at me. Sarah chose to sit down on the bench, leaving some space between them. "Tell me what happened."

"I caught him," I told her, and inexplicably, at the mere memory of seeing the car and knowing my watcher was there, my insides grew warm and damp. I didn't like that.

Helena gave me a level look. "Your watcher."

I nodded.

"Who is he?" she asked.

"I don't know. I didn't even get a look at him."

"Did he speak to you?"

I nodded, recalling his voice, the vague familiarity of it. My nipples tightened and my insides clenched. I shifted on my feet, trying to relieve the pressure I was feeling between my legs.

"Tell me everything he told you."

I shrugged. "He really didn't say much. He said he was right, that I was of their blood, touched by them."

Helena frowned.

"What did he mean?" Sarah asked.

Helena glanced at her. "He senses that Amy is carrying a spark of divine power. What he wants with her, I really don't know." Helena looked at me and shrugged helplessly. "But I can tell you this; whoever he is, he's wrong. You aren't one of his descendants, nor are you related to anyone else like him."

I was with Helena so far, but I wanted a real answer to a question she had evaded the last time I spoke with her. "What is he, exactly?"

She took a deep breath, then let it out as a sigh of resignation. "He's a god, Amy."

My eyebrows went up. "A god?"

"Are you fucking kidding?" Sarah asked.

Helena chuckled at that. "No, I'm afraid not. Most of the gods and goddesses in literature were quite real. They weren't as numerous as various societal records would suggest, however."

Having been doing my own reading, I was pretty sure I knew what she meant. "You mean how Greeks and Romans shared some of the same gods."

"Exactly," she nodded. "Though names may not have been the same, if their divine purpose was the same, even remotely, there was very likely only one deity. For example, Freyja is the Norse goddess of love, beauty, and fertility, as well as sorcery and war, among other things. Of the former divine aspects, she shared them with the Greek goddesses Aphrodite and Artemis. Her name was different among the cultures, and her appearance, but it was all the same deity. Freyja is simply the name she prefers."